


The Island of Gods

by Eggplantssandpeachess



Series: Don't put the baby in the corner [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Domestic, M/M, Murder Husbands, On the Run, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggplantssandpeachess/pseuds/Eggplantssandpeachess
Summary: "Hannibal understood that whenever Will was involved there would always be sadness and darkness. Will was just too exposed, too perceptive and against his will; invested. But he would never be alone."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Don't put the baby in the corner [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553866
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	The Island of Gods

Hannibal and Will's bedroom was just that, meant for only two. But now there was a third interloper entering the fray. She-- completely unaware of her achievements-- was currently being held pleasantly in Hannibal's arms. 

“Hannibal, why is there a baby with you?” 

A beat and a blink. “I will explain to you momentarily,” Said Hannibal as he looked back at the baby and saw how immensely unperturbed she was by the current situation. Unlike Hannibal who reminded himself how telling his look of surprise was; his jaw practically unhinged, sealed it immediately and projected his most calming expression for his dear Will. 

At that preamble Will Graham’s eyebrows made several remarkable leaps. “Sure. I-I’ll wait downstairs.” He said before he walked away. 

Hannibal could gather the latent confusion in the younger man’s face, but beneath that were the fluttering wings of anticipation. Hannibal understood that whenever Wil was involved there would always be sadness and darkness. Will was just too exposed, too perceptive and against his will; invested. But he would never be alone.

Hannibal could not even begin to predict the turn of events. It made his weary hunger turn sharply into a different sort of direction, and suddenly he was no longer tired. He was excited to see how Will would digest this peculiar mystery and he felt optimistic that today had not been wasted after all. 

There was a bright glint in Hannibal's eyes as he wrapped the baby's wayward arms once again. She stared at him with a positively vacant stare and in return he gave her a small smile. Hannibal took a breath before he followed Will down towards the dining table; it was their usual place of discussion.

.

.

.

.

.

When Hannibal arrived Will had already found the worn wicker basket. Will had placed it on the table and was standing in front of it amidst a tremor that rackeled his shoulders. 

  
  


Hannibal knew Will would have seen the note, and would have seen far, far beyond that. Will’s beautiful mind would have taken hold with an unforgiving force, the implication emerging as clear as glass. 

  
  


“Will,” Said Hannibal. 

  
  


Will looked anxiously between Hannibal and the baby, his hand fidgeting at his side. He paced back and forth before pausing by the wicker basket once more. Will's restless hand landed gently on the basket’s side at a particular area which seemed to have been abraded at a much more recent time. The younger man regarded the spot with a quiet reverence. 

  
  


“S-she carried her young -- held her fiercely against her side --” Said Will in a distant tone. “She found this place a-and left a part of herself here.” 

  
  


Hannibal did not need to postulate Will’s statement, he followed it without momentary conjecture. “Why did she come here, Will?”

  
  


Will’s eyes were hazy, he did not turn away from the basket. Hannibal watched with unabashed fascination. 

  
  


“Why did we come here?” Said Will. 

  
  


“To hide.”

  
  


“To hide.” Will repeated quietly. 

  
  


The baby gurgled, a small sound that made Will turn towards her. Will moved unsteadily and stood beside Hannibal, the younger man looked upon the baby with a sad quivering smile. 

  
  


“Where is she now, Will?” Hannibal asked.

  
  


Will frowned, twitching his brows to indicate his running thoughts. They would never stumble, it was a sprint, the destination immediate. 

  
  


“She --” Will let free a shaky breath. “She never left, sh-she’s still here.” Will closed his eyes as though pain coursed through his frame. “The woods.” 

  
  


Hannibal watched breathlessly, eyes tracking the younger man’s face; his tight jaw, his tense shoulders, and down towards Will’s white knuckled fist.

  
  


“Show me.” Said Hannibal. 

  
  


Will’s eyes were locked somewhere past Hannibal’s arm. The younger man nodded his head and turned to walk towards the front door. Hannibal followed him devoutly. 

  
  


As Hannibal obtained his coat in the foyer Will suddenly stopped and turned around by the open entryway, the younger man contemplated Hannibal’s attempt to wear the coat. 

  
  


“May I hold the baby?” Will said, interrupting Hannibal’s movement. 

  
  


“Of course.” Hannibal passed the baby to Will. 

  
  


Hannibal continued with his coat but observed Will with intense curiosity. Will bounced the small bundle gently, his blue eyes that were akin to a vast ocean took on it's liquid characteristic. The younger man blinked a few times. 

  
  


Outside, the two men walked towards the line of trees that grew dense and dark in the afternoon light. Will with the baby in his arms and Hannibal a few steps behind. 

  
  


Their large property was bordered by a wild forest that grew untouched. At some point the scant wire fencing that marked their land had been consumed by nature. The boundary was blurred as the woods bled unrestrained into the open field.

Hannibal observed as Will’s every step landed with unquestionable assurity. Hannibal in turn was thrumming with hidden delight, quietly impressed. 

Where Hannibal's previous survey of the woods were based on practicality and logic, Will’s was wholly instinct. And it was not with an instinct that was his own, this was another's; the mother of the baby, the stranger who delivered her precious part to their door. How it was that from a faded shadow of a gossamer whisper Will had become her, Will  _ was  _ her. 

  
  


Beneath a large Oak tree, at the edge of a small clearing where the trees lived tightly in eerie silence, Will and Hannibal found the body of a young woman. Here the scent of the forest was overwhelming; the wetness of the soil, the wood from the branches, the very air was permeated thickly with an untamed foggy aroma. But as Hannibal approached the body he could finally smell the cloying sweetness of death intermingled with fresh decay. 

She sat on the ground, on a collage of orange and brown. Slumped over, her back was leaning against the wide trunk of the tree. Her long black hair was held by a rubber band, the shorter strands of her fringe fell over her face like a curtain that framed her petite features. She wore the clothes of a man much larger than her; beige corduroy pants, a worn plaid shirt, and dirty canvas shoes. Her skin was pallid, ashy and devoid of life, but if she were alive Hannibal could imagine how radiant her golden complexion would be. He imagined the young woman, breathing humid air, baked by the equatorial sun surrounded by a perfume of frangipani and white jasmine. It was clear to Hannibal that she did not belong here. 

Will gasped and slowly lowered himself to his knees. Hannibal stood behind and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. 

The baby began to cry, nothing so shrill but loud in a sense. A call to her own flesh and blood perhaps, Hannibal pondered. 

“She had an infection, likely caused by giving birth without medical supervision.” Hannibal detected a foul odor, a bacterial infection of the uterus, her death would have been painful, fever, sepsis. “We have to go back Will.” 

Hannibal looked towards the heavens. Twilight had descended swiftly, robbing the remaining light and leaving behind an indigo sky. 

“We can't just leave her here Hannibal --” 

“Will, the baby.” Hannibal reminded. “She will need to feed, as do we,” 

Will glanced up at Hannibal with a pained expression. A single tear escaped those misty eyes. Will then looked at the face of the baby before tearing his gaze towards the lifeless body. 

Will hovered his hand above the young woman's head, close but never touching. He moved his trembling hand, sweeping her figure until it paused upon her upturned palm. Will tore at a yarn bracelet worn by the young woman and pocketed the piece. He stood up and looked at Hannibal. “We’ll come back for her, no one can find her. Let's go home.” Will promised.

.

.

.

  
  


When they arrived home the baby had begun to fuss significantly, Will rocked her as Hannibal made another bottle. Will mumbled soft words to the baby and fed her, his eyes never leaving her. 

  
  


When dinner was finished Will changed the baby with slow unpracticed movements but was determined to do it alone. Hannibal had yet another towel for the washing machine. 

  
  


Afterwards both men moved into the study where Hannibal tended to the logs in the fireplace. “How did you find her Will?”

The younger man paced with the bundled baby, explaining after a heavy sigh. “There’s a gentle slope that leads north-west of our property, considering her… state, it would’ve been easier to walk in that direction. The clearing meant a view of the sky and she would have liked that.” Will swallowed audibly. “It must have been some time since she’d seen the sky.” 

Hannibal tilted his head in a graceful nod but he stayed silent. Will looked as though he held in his thoughts like a brimming cup. 

“It's overwhelming -- Her mother's love and hope,” Said Will as he sat in his arm chair. “It makes me hope as well.” He played with the baby's sparse hair atop her crown and leaned back into the velvet seat. He rubbed at his mouth, fine fingers brushing over smooth and scarred skin. “What do we do, Hannibal? I can't let her go.” He grazed the back of his hand against the baby's cherubic cheek. “I need to keep her, keep her safe.”

Hannibal sat comfortably in his own chair and crossed his legs. The setting was an echo of their previous dynamic, yet it was vastly different. Using a word Hannibal would never use to describe anything; 'cosy' was the one he would choose now. Rather than opposite sides, here, they were beside each other and much, much closer. 

“Kept like her mother was kept? And when her keeper finds this child what then?” Said Hannibal not in tone of reprimand but in discussion. The act of pulling forth the thoughts writhing in Will's mind gave him genuine pleasure. 

  
  


“Keeper? No, her  _ captor _ .” Will narrowed his eyes at Hannibal with a piercing coolness that could have easily doused the flames of the fireplace. “Are you threatened by this baby? Still nameless and completely vulnerable? Is she safe here, Hannibal?”

“You portray me as Cronus, Will.” He sniffed. “But it was you who consumed the woman in the forest, have you not?” Said Hannibal.

Will stared into Hannibal's eyes with an infinite depth that has never failed to drive a shiver down his marrow. 

Turning his head away with a jarred motion, Will whispered; "I've absorbed her.” Like an incantation. 

“No harm will come to this child when in my presence.” Hannibal tilted his head. After a beat, “She is a liability, Will. I repeat, what then?” 

“Then I will kill her captor.” Said Will with finality. "Long Pig sous vide? Don't think I didn't notice your new precision cooker." 

Hannibal smirked while he looked at Will with an overflowing mirth of pride and affection. 

Will huffed and procured the yarn bracelet he took earlier from the young woman and held it in his palm. The thin bracelet was made up of three intertwined colours; red, white and black. “What does this mean?” He asked.

“A talisman of Hindu origin,”

“India?” 

“No, south east asian, I believe a small island in the Indonesian archipelago,”

“The Island of Gods,”

“Yes,”

“And here she lay in the land of demons.” 

“Are we the demons here, Will?”

“We are not  _ her _ demons.” 

Hannibal and Will sat silently within a pocket of time as the fire crackled in the background. The night had transformed the study into a cavernous space, deceptively larger in the dark, sound enough for beasts to lay hidden away in its depths. Outside there were no clouds, no lunar glow, a new moon. The only source of light was the warm orange glow of the roaring fire that encircled within it Hannibal and his dear Will. It spoke of comfort in a way that Hannibal could understand, or had finally understood only now. 

“The roast was a little dry,” said Will apropos for nothing. 

Hannibal realised all too late that this was the portion of their conversation where Will was the one indulging in picking Hannibal apart. 

Hannibal looked at him with incredulity, mouth slightly open, his neck teasing warmth at something resembling embarrassment. “I was rather occupied today,” 

Will snickered and smiled, wrinkled skin and white teeth. His coy eyes brought forth all of his boyish charms to the forefront of his youthful face, and it was incredibly effective against Hannibal. He conceded to scrutinize his specific response from Will’s attack, and created an appointment in his mind for a later time; perhaps while he sketched. 

“I hope you didn't forget about the dogs, Valerie is getting old,” Will said.

“Of course,”

Will quirked his eyebrow knowingly.

“I did not forget,” Hannibal smiled back at Will and wider still when Will chuckled. Canines out; a sign of danger for anyone else, but for Will a source of entertainment. 

“I'll leave the baby with you and go out to get nappies, okay? More formula too,” Will rose and stepped the short distance to where Hannibal sat. 

There were only two chairs within the study, Hannibal noted, and visually they did not match but nevertheless they were a pair. One chosen by Will from a second hand boutique and one made custom with Hannibal's specifications. Two chairs for two people who lived in the old french countryside abode.  _ ‘Not anymore’ _ hung daintily in Hannibal's mind. 

“Hannibal?”

“--Yes, Will.” Said Hannibal as he accepted the warm bundle. 

“I'll be back in an hour or so -- a bigger town further than here would be best.” Said Will. 

Yes, without knowing where the woman was from, and based on the state of her health before her untimely death, it was likely she had journeyed-- escaped --from the nearby town. Hannibal was seen often enough, as well as Will on occasion, but any behaviour out of their ordinary strolls through the marketplace would surely raise a few eyebrows; the purchase of baby supplies would obviously be out of the question. Hannibal hoped his previous speedy excursion into town had not been memorable enough to spread as ingenuous gossip. 

The fact that the woman was likely from town meant that somehow, somewhere a local resident had kept her locked and hidden all the while they lived and interacted without suspicion within the small population. Hannibal was curious to meet such a person. Without the tools of the FBI at their disposal Hannibal and Will would have some difficulty in tracking their prey, though to be fair the best tools the FBI had were Will and Hannibal. 

After Will had left, Hannibal remained in the glow of the fire. He waited for Will all the while wondering deeply where all of this would lead them.

He looked at the nameless baby with a placid face. “To market, to market…” 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of random stories going through my mind and I'm a sporadic writer :( 
> 
> Will finding a baby wasn't meant to be so sad
> 
> The yarn bracelet is a Tridatu bracelet


End file.
